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Section / L ti> K C^J 





igo 7 

Copyright, 1907, by Helen Elizabeth Coolidge 
All Rights Reserved 

Many of the poems in this volume appeared in 
" The Christian Intelligencer," "The Southern 
Churchman," " The Living Church," and " The 
New York Observer," and are used by kind per- 
mission of the editors of these publications. 

The Gorham Press , Boston 

£o a i rienb 
in $arabt£e 

To whose faith in me I owe both strength and 

inspiration, this little volume is 

affectionately dedicated 


For good or ill its work is wrought, 

Against, or else for thee; 
The little seed it daily sows 

A harvest rich may be. 

I pray thee, Lord, my heart so fill 

With loyal love to thee, 
My mind on things of u good report" 

Intent may ever be. 

Thy love, thy glory be my theme, 

Then shall the garner be 
Overflowing, with sweet thoughts of One 

I would have others see. 

I would do nought but sow, dear Lord, 

The reaper thou must be; 
I pray that love my pen may guide, 

The rest I leave to Thee. 



The Peace of Evening 

The Downward Slope 

The Shepherd Good 



After While . 

Good-Night . 

"Thy Left Hand" . 

Trust . 

Worth While . 

Arbutus, or "Judge Not" 

The Sunset Gun 

A Garland Given 

Golden Stairs . 

Gifts I May Give 

The Lines Between . 

From Beyond the Shadows 

Blessed Thoughts 

Perplexing Paths 

The Lord's Prayer . 

Who are These 


Two Tiny Shoes 

Be Not Weary 

Reproof . 

Sing Unto the Lord 

The Silent Tears 

"The Christmas Angel" 

A Mother s Love 



















Each Other 
All Saints 
Lost and Found 
He Knows 
The Gifts I Seek . 
My Shepherd 
Forgive . 

The Crumpled Leaf. 
Loyal — Loving 
The Father s Hand 

The Sacrament of Silence 

"I Have Overcome" 
* Let us Pray" 
The Home in Bethany 
Me or Thee . 
"In the Way of Righteousness is 
The Face Upturned 
Go Blithely . 
Our Milestones 

if . . . 

The Heart of Consecration 

Good Friday . 

A Prayer 

De Pro fund is 


"For Them Also" 

"Unto Me" . 

An Easter Prayer 

Life 9 


"Rabboni" . 


it D >> 



Another Easter 

. 56 

Sweet Counsel 


A Living Christ 


Keeping Step . 

• 58 

Old-Fashioned Religion 




A Little Bird . 


And Yet ... 


Evening . . 


Non Nobis Solis 

• 63 

"Rejoice Evermore " 

• 64 

"Come Ye Apart 




The Daily Round 


Past, Present, Future 




Missionary Hymn 




Transit Umbra, Lux Parmanet 


Lord of Easter 

7 1 

The Uplands . . . . 


Resurrection . . . , 


I Never Knew 


Rainbow Tints 


The Everlasting Arms 


My Mother Dear . 


The Cross Before 


A Thanksgiving 


The Burden of a Sigh 


Ephphatha . 


Service . 


Forward Go . . . . 



Prayer — Praise 

Burden Bearing 

The Soul's Stature 



At Close of Day 

The Soft Answer 

When . 

The Helping Hand 

The Music of Christmas 

God's Garner . 

Taps . 

Reveille . 

A Bit of Blue 

Storm and Stress 

A Morning Prayer 

Little Deeds . 

Fidus ad Extremum 

A Sweet Song 

The Hills . 

Mosaic . 

Cross Roads . 


Even Christ Pleased not Himself 

Just Where I am 

His Tender Care 

The Angel of His P 

Self -Denials 

One Gift 

How Shall I Pray 


In Thy Strength 




Of all earthly music that which reaches farthest 
into heaven is the beating of a loving heart. 

— Beecher. 

Long time ago, my restless will 

Knew not the calm of inward peace; 
No thought of thee did love instill, 
No word of thine had power to thrill, 
Nor would the tumult cease. 

Long time ago, upon life's sea 
My soul was tempest-tossed; 
The heaven where I fain would be 
Too distant seemed to harbor me, 
I, rudderless, was lost. 

But now, my heart-throbs sink and swell 
In sweetest chime, as joy-bells ring; 
Of thy dear love my life would tell, 
I, where thou art, delight to dwell, 
My Saviour and my King. 

Of earthly music none so sweet 

As that the loving heart may voice 
The cadence reverent lips repeat, 
The rhythm learned at Jesus' feet, 
Thus — may the soul rejoice. 



As slowly, one by one, 

The stars appear, 
My burdened heart I lift, 

And feel to God anear. 

The daily toil is o'er, 
And though oppressed, 

The peace of evening brings 
To my worn spirit rest. 

While now the tear-dimmed eye 

Beholds His face, 
The wordless prayer ascends 

For added gifts of grace; 

That, silent watches past, 

For Him I may 
Be strong in service true, 

Throughout the newborn day. 


The day is spent, the night draws nigh, 
In twilight hush who passes by ? 
Though steps be feeble, eyes grown dim, 
The downward slope leads up to Him. 

The night is nigh and spent the day, 
Yet, heavenly light illumes the way; 
My Guide unerring down the vale 
Still upward leads, — I shall not fail. 


And upward shall be borne my soul, 
Though downward, erstwhile, seemed the goal, 
When conquered is the last of foes, 
And in sweet sleep mine eyelids close. 


{Suggested by a sermon) 

A Shepherd good like unto thee 
In gentle, watchful ministry, 
This I may be if I abide, 

Saviour, ever at thy side. 

The wide, wide world may be the fold; 
The sheep ? no name should I withhold; 
They number all who need my care, 
The torn, the bruised are everywhere. 

The "waters still," the "pastures green," 
May be my strength on which they lean; 
My voice ! Oh, may each wanderer heed ; 
My table those ahungered feed. 

Oh, make my love so full, complete, 

That for thy service I am meet; 

A shepherd's sacrifice be mine, 

Till, — this life lost, — I find — divine. 


There is no word in our cold tongue 
That seems to voice this gift so rare; 

1 borrow that I may express 

A charm that oft can lighten care. 


So much it holds in its embrace, 

Of kindly word and deed and thought; 

It is not tenderness alone, 

But gentleness with tact inwrought. 

It is to love as though thine eye 
Another's inner life could see; 

To strengthen, though no word may ask 
The faltering one to lean on thee. 

It is to feel because one knows 

The need that, constant, presses sore; 

To lose in other lives one's own, 

The precious spikenard thus to pour. 

And none this gift so great may own 
Save he who sits at Jesus' feet; 

For, loving Him with all one's heart, 
Each life another's life may meet. 


"The heart could have no rainbows had the eyes 
no tears " 

Through vista of my early days, 
On cloudless sky can Memory gaze, 
When ne'er a thought of things to be 
Disturbed my glad serenity. 


Then storm clouds rose, — they darker grew; 
In vain searched I for rifts of blue, 
Yet, close did clasp the Guiding Hand, 
Through paths too rough to understand. 

And now, on my fast-falling tears, 
The glorious light of heaven appears; 
And thus my sky, at God's command, 
Is by His bow of promise spanned. 

O Soul! wouldst thou wish now to gaze 
With eye undimmed on sunny days ? 
Nay, storm clouds do but hide the blue, 
And tears reflect the rainbow's hue. 


We never shall, in years to come, 

Let fall the bitter tear, 
If only now our luring friends, 

We tenderly revere; 
Those who, for many years or few, 

Have been to us most dear. 

We never shall, in future years, 
These passing ones regret, 

If only now, to give them joy, 
We can our own forget. 

Till love and patience shall for them 
In sacrifice have met. 

l 7 

Thus, after while, the vacant chairs 

Glad memories shall fill, 
And no reproachful thought shall come 

Our lonely hearts to chill, 
Because of sweet forbearance shown, 

When they were with us still. 


We say it lisping, — warmed by Mother's smile, 
Our eyelids close for just a little while; 
To lovely dreamland it the door unbars, 
Where safe we rest, — our sentinels the stars. 

We say it softly, — scarce do lips repeat 
The tender word so fraught with meaning sweet; 
'Neath silver lamps, whilst faint the zephyrs blow, 
We taste the bliss Love only can bestow. 

We say it sobbing, — hope is lost in fear, 
The night has come, — all unrestrained the tear; 
With handclasp close that more than words can say, 
We wait — together — part, ere dawn of day. 


Think a thought for others, 
Wise or true or kind; 

Then, forget such thinking 
Ever filled thy mind. 

Say a word in season; 

Kind or wise or true; 
Then, thy voice forgetting, 

Echo it anew. 

Do a deed for others, 

Self-denying be, 
But — thy left hand never 

Must the right one see. 


The morning breaks 

And gloom forsakes 

The soul that trusts in Thee; 

For where Thou art there shall be light, 

In cloud by day, in flame by night, 

And strength Thou givest me. 

The upward gaze, 
Through darkened days, 
Can silver lining see; 
Through parted clouds, in rifts of blue, 
Thy love and mercy shineth through, 
If I but lean on Thee. 

In death's dark hour, 

Thy mighty power 

Can light the shadowy vale; 

With glimpse of streets of shining gold, 

Of glories tongue has never told, 

Why should my spirit quail! 



"Is it worth while ? " we wearied say, 
At close of long and struggling day; 
These duties that upon us press 
All seem to end in nothingness. 

Is it worth while, for others' sake, 
This constant sacrifice to make ? 
They do not seem to love us more, 
The world is selfish as before. 

Is it worth while ? Were this world all, 
No wonder should its griefs appall; 
Yet, oh ! to win our Father's smile, 
Our every effort is — worth while. 


The dull brown leaves I swept aside, 
Where erstwhile hidden lay 

The sweetest blossoms of the Spring, 
A foretaste, they, of May. 

How oft we cast the careless glance, 
And crush beneath our feet 

The beauty gentleness might find 
In lives both fair and sweet. 



This is my little sermon! List! 

The text I whisper low: 
"Judge not," for 'neath dull-tinted leaves 

May purest blossoms blow; 

The hidden loveliness of those 
Who somber garb must wear, 

To tender touch will e'er unfold, 
And fragrance fill the air. 


Life is not victory, but battle. Be patient a little 
longer. By and by, in our hushed and waiting 
chambers, each in his turn, we shall hear the sunset 
gun. — Dr. Roswell D. Hitchcock 

The sunset gun! Ere it shall sound 
What lies before we may not know, 
Yet cannot step beyond the bound 
The Father's love shall daily show; 
For us far distant gleams the goal, 
The prize is not till race is run; 
Who patient waits shall hear, at length, 
The sunset gun. 

The sunset gun! Yea, wait awhile 
Till comes to thee its wakening thrill; 
Through darkened days still bravely smile, 
And make thine own the Father's will; 
Each hour the end will nearer be, 
The by-and-by of duty done, 
For thee, for me, a paean then, 
The sunset gun. 



If thou hast a pleasant thought 

Of a friend to-day, 
Art inclined his deeds to praise, 

Such a wish obey. 

If some hungry soul would feed 

On thy love to-day 
Oh, I plead, withhold it not, 

Cheer him on his way. 

Wait not till on marble brow 
There shall fall thy tear; 

To him strength and courage give 
While he struggles here. 

Thus a garland, fadeless, fair, 
Thou mayst ever weave, 

And for kindnesses undone, 
Needst thou never grieve. 


One by one I mount them, 

Jesus went before; 
At the top His " mansions," 

Rest forevermore. 

One by one, though footsore, 
Golden 'neath my feet 

Is the way that shows me 
Bitter can be sweet. 


One by one, not halting, 
Pressing upward still, 

Of pure gold I find them, 
When my own, His will. 

One by one, each morrow, 
Some are left below; 

One by one I mount them, 
Upward, upward go. 

For, by faith, I follow 
Up the golden stair 

One who every trial 

Does, by loving, share. 


A ready, gentle, helpful hand; 

A patient ear to understand; 

A heart to sympathize with each; 

A life that shall, unconscious, teach; 

God grant that I may richer be 

In sharing gifts He gives to me. 


We're prone to be too hasty, with careless glance 

we scan 
The page of life as written by every brother man; 
We note the faults of accent, that rhythm rings not 



So vexed words are many, and kindly ones are few; 
Alas! the sight is clouded, the beauties all unseen, 
'Tis we who fail in reading what surely lies be- 

We always see the failure, the struggle hidden lies, 
Too deep for recognition by our dimmed, human 

We look but for the honey, and failing that to find, 
Too oft some fragile flower is bruised by the wind; 
We wing the poisoned arrow, or judge with haughty 

So failing, in our blindness, to read the lines be- 

Not so the Heavenly Father, who knows our 

smallest need; 
Each tear-blurred page, when written, His eye in 

love doth read, 
And when our timid voices we lift in praise or 

He heedeth not the discord, if only love be there; 
Oh! grant us grace, dear Father, to see the things 

To help our struggling comrades to read their 

lines between. 


(In Memoriam) 

Listen! faith will tell thee 

I am living still; 
Thoughts of me most tender 

All thy life may fill. 


Listen! Memory speaketh; 

Sweet and clear the tone; 
With her vivid pictures 

Art thou quite alone ? 

Listen! faint its echo, 
Yet, 'twill not be long 

Ere our voices mingle 
In the triumph-song. 


There is a blessed thought 

For those who journey here; 
For all the sorrow-taught 

'Tis full of hope and cheer; 
My presence goes with thee, 

To thee I give my Rest; 
Oh, come, oh, come to me, 

Ye weary and oppressed. 

There is another thought, 

'Twill ever comfort give; 
With tender meaning fraught 

And power anew to live; 
That He who asks our love 

Vouchsafes us daily Strength, 
Unfailing aid will prove 

Throughout our journey's length 

2 5 

And, yet again, a thought; 

Though dim should be the way, 
Of cloud a pillar wrought 

Will lead us, day by day; 
Though dark should be the night, 

A fiery pillar's glow 
May be a beacon-light, 

As forward we shall go. 

Once more a blessed thought 

Will us from fear release; 
He who our ransom bought 

Bestows the gift of Peace: 
"My peace to you I leave; 

Not as the world I give; 
I bid you not to grieve, 

With me, you all shall live." 

And then, a crowning thought, 

Of Life both rich and free; 
If at the Fountain sought, 

'Tis ours eternally; 
With rest, strength, peace, and light, 

From Christ our all-in-all, 
Oh, may we valiant fight, 

And ever heed His call. 


Too prone am I the distant scene, 
With all-perplexing paths between, 
To view with trembling and with fear, 
Forgetting thou art ever near; 


Tis hard to take what thou dost mete 
Of hourly joy or sorrow, 
To learn, each day must be complete 
Before there dawns a morrow. 

Yet, though thy child is ever frail 
Thou wilt not suffer me to fail; 
If, through long years my journey lie, 
To thee for daily strength I'll cry, 
So shall I learn to grasp the hand 
In tender love outstretched to me, 
And what I may not understand , 
In perfect trust to leave with thee. 


Oh, teach me from my heart to say, 

At dawn, at close of each new day, 

Those words with wealth of meaning fraught, 

That thou to thy disciples taught; 

Thy prayer make mine, 

Saviour divine. 

Yet, if these lips those words should say 
While thoughts have wandered far away, 
Forgive, O Christ, the flesh is weak 
E'en while thy glory I would seek, 

And take as thine 

This prayer of mine. 



Who are these in glistening raiment 

We, by faith, do now behold ? 
Who have passed through tribulation 

To the shelter of the fold ? 
Whose these robes of dazzling whiteness 

In the city paved with gold ? 
In God's mighty army, one time, 

Were their precious names enrolled. 

Who are these dear souls found worthy 

To be clad in robes of white ? 
Lonely hearts give best the answer 

From the thickest of the fight; 
Compassed by these dearly loved ones, 

Let us keep our armor bright, 
That, when ended is the warfare, 

We, with them, may "walk in white." 


Jesu, when with anguished heart, 

1 see my best loved hopes depart; 
When doubts the light of heaven obscure 
And, blinded, I can scarce endure, 

Then, speak my name, — the scales shall fall, 
"Rabboni! " faith restored shall call. 



Oh, tiny, faded, well-worn shoes that I bedew with 

How tender are the memories sweet that cover by- 
gone years! 

To little feet I hearken still, their patter on the floor 

Is music to a mother's ear, e'en though her heart 
be sore. 

Those tiny, faded treasures now, I warm with kisses 

They once, in those old happy days, were soft to 

baby's feet; 
I see my darling's hands outstretched, — the goal 

is mother's arms, 
The arms that were thy refuge, sweet, from all thy 

vain alarms. 

For love is fadeless, baby sweet, and eyes bedewed 

with tears 
Can see through all the vista long, of clouded, lonely 

Can see to where thy cradle stands, and murmur 

soft and low, 
The lullabies that soothed thy rest, as it rocked to 

and fro: 
These tiny, well-worn shoes, my sweet, a message 

hold for me, 
"Oh, have thy baby's perfect trust, — thou com- 
forted shalt be; 
Thy goal is Love, — a love that waits thy joy to 

make complete, 
Oh, keep outstretched thy hands, — believe, — 

then, run with eager feet." 



Why weariest thou ? 
For not far spent the day as yet! 
Why linger then with vain regret, 
With furrowed brow and lashes wet ? 

Ah! hearken now. 

In due time thou 
A harvest rich shalt surely reap; 
And though the path be rough and steep 
His angels charge o'er thee shall keep; 
Take courage now. 

Faint still art thou ? 
Nay, Faith the shadows shall dispell; 
With Christ for guide all will be well, 
And peace the calm of heaven foretell, 

Yea, even now. 


Art thou Christ's disciple ? 

Patient be; 
'Tis perchance what's needed 

Most by thee; 
Though thy heart it grieveth sore 
Strive more earnest than before. 

Through the tones that chide thee 

Hear His voice; 
'Twixt the good and evil 

Make thy choice; 
Though thy self-love wounded be 

Win by meekness victory. 



Had we in Christ but learned to dwell 

Our lives were each a song; 
To hearts at peace the world's dismay 

Can ne'er again belong. 

Did we but serve with single heart 

Each life a psalm might be; 
We, bending low, the message hear: 

"My grace I promise thee." 

Did we but trust a Father's love 

And clasp His guiding hand, 
The burthen of our songs would be 

A joy in each command. 

Oh! sing unto the Lord, my soul! 

Both now and yet again; 
Till heart and mind and voice shall sound 

In full accord — " Amen! " 


There is a silence that enfolds 
Those years in Nazareth spent; 

When, with His humble, daily toil 
Our dear Lord lived content. 

And yet — in all those silent years 

Obedience was learned; 
And He "was subject unto them " 

Proves no wise counsel spurned. 


There is a silence that enfolds 
The Father's plan for thee; 

Yet if a Nazareth He choose 
Submissive thou shouldest be. 

And should across some future years;* 

A cross in shadow fall, 
The braver wilt thou bear its weight, 

Or heed a clarion call. 

For silent years have made of thee 

A soldier brave and bold; 
Oh, welcome, then, the silent years, 

And lessons they may hold. 


O blessed Christmas angel, now 

I'd hearken unto thee, 
'Neath starlight clear forget how drear 

Erstwhile the world to me; 
Oh, may thy music joyous 

An echo in me find; 
And sorrow cease in perfect peace 

God's gift to all mankind. 

O blessed Christmas angel, still 

I'm listening to thee, 
Thy song of old anew has told 

My Lord's nativity; 
Adown the ages echo 

The strains the shepherds heard, 
" Peace and good will" my spirit fill, 

As falls the heavenly word. 


O'er fair Judea's shining plain 

Still floats that glorious song, 
For faith can hear its words of cheer 

And see an angel throng; 
The wondrous, heavenly music 

Glad echoes voice again; 
"Glory to God," "Glory to God," 

"Amen," — "Amen," — "Amen." 


What time the tiny helpless frame 

Lies cradled in her fond embrace, 
When all seems tame beside its claim, 

And beauty means one dimpled face; 
Oh, then it is, her tender love 

Goes out that other love to meet; — 
Than mother love, save that above, 

Where canst thou find a love more sweet ? 

Or else, when toddling footsteps slow, 

With two strong arms the longed-for goal, 
Both to and fro uncertain go, 

While watched with all her anxious soul; 
Oh! then one sees protecting love 

Go out that little love to meet; — 
Save that above, is not her love 

The love of earthly loves most sweet ? 

Or when with wondering, opening eyes 
The book of life the child shall learn, 

And he defies her counsel wise, 

Or helpful words, alas! doth spurn; 


We know that still her faithful love 
Shall long that other love to meet; — 

Than mother-love, save that above, 
One cannot find a love more sweet! 

When tears repentant wiped away, 

The erring child begins anew, 
'Tis then her kiss restores his bliss 

And leaden skies give place to blue; 
Once more we see untiring love 

Go forth the other love to meet; 
Save that above, there is no love 

Like mother-love, so steadfast, sweet. 

At last, when childhood days have flown, 

And silvered hairs frame furrowed brow, 
Still, love alone doth all condone, 

She doth with virtue him endow; 
Ah, then, perchance, as quenchless love 

Still yearns that earthly love to meet, 
The clouds dispel, — in light above, 

She wakes undying Love to greet. 


Let us help each other; 

This day must we try; 
Wait not for another, 

Time is flitting by. 

Let us cheer each other, 
Give the ready smile; 

Thinking of another 
Shortens every mile. 


Let us love each other > 
'Tis a rule of gold; 

When we love another. 
Love doth us enfold 


For all of our beloved 

We gather here to-day, 
Those saints on earth we cherished, 

Those saints we love alway; 
The veil is thin, beloved, 

That from our sight doth hide, 
You, who unfurled the banner 

Of Christ the Crucified. 

For all of our beloved 

We can, rejoicing, sing; 
The paean of their triumph 

Shall through these arches ring; 
On finite ear, beloved, 

Faint falls the victor's song, 
Yet, 'tis to one great army 

That all of us belong. 

For you, our well beloved, 

The rest His chosen know, 
For us, the toil and conflict 

As forward still we go; 
Oh, thin the veil, beloved, 

'Twill soon be rent in twain, 
When partings shall be over. 

And "peace be won from pain." 


The while we struggle bravely, 

Beloved, witness still, 
With tender benediction 

Our fainting spirits thrill; 
The veil still hides, beloved, 

Yet march we side by side, 
Above us floats the banner 

Of Christ the Crucified. 



Some precious little moments 
That once were given me; 

If only I could find them 
I would not idle be. 

A jewel called "Patience," 
Its setting was most bright; 

A gem much prized by others 
To whom it gave delight. 

The chance to do a kindness, 

A loving word to say; 
A few these of the losses 

That I have met to-day. 


How best to use the minutes 
That Father Time doth give; 

In every well-spent hour 
To count it joy to live. 


A jewel that grows brighter 
When kept in constant wear, 

Not insecure the setting 
If riveted with prayer. 

A golden chance they treasure 
Who Love's sweet law obey; 

A few these of the blessings 
That I have found to-day. 


The day is now far spent — 

The evening shadows fall 
And with thy will content 
As good or ill is sent 

I to thee, Father, call. 
The twinkling stars appear 

For me each seems to shine; 
I on a midnight clear 
With shepherds in their fear 

Behold thee, light divine. 

And when life's day shall close 

Lost in a twilight gray, 
Oh, heart that love o'erflows 
Be thou my sure repose 
A comforter alway. 


They cannot understand my load, 
These friends I hold so dear; 

Sometimes their very trying will, 
Unbidden, start the tear. 


I cannot put it into words, 

This daily cross of mine; 
The longing that the cup might pass 

No loved one can divine. 

They cannot — yet, remember, soul, 
That One there is who knows, 

To Him lift up the heavy heart 
Whene'er thy cup o'erflows. 

The cross thy loved ones may not see 
Thy Saviour longs to share; 

His sympathy its weight can ease, 
Oh, trust His tender care. 

" He knows ! " Oh ! say it o'er and o'er; 

When bravely borne, He knows! 
Then, lift a smiling face to His, 

Although thy cup o'erflows. 


Give me, O Lord, the daily grace 
With quiet mind to serve; 

A trustful heart, a loyal love, 
That I may never swerve. 

Give me, O Lord, the inward peace 
That follows sweet commune, 

Till outward worries cease to chafe 
A life in glad attune. 


And give me, Lord, a mind that is 
From all self-seeking free; 

So, all unconscious, may I draw 
Some other souls to thee. 


Yea, He is mine! Oh, blessed thought 
And would that I its sweetness knew; 

Of all who love me, none can feel 
A love as tender and as true. 

Yea, all His sheep He loveth well, 
Yet, each may claim a special care; 

My Shepherd intercedes for me, 
He hearkens to my faintest prayer. 

Yea, when I wander from His fold, 
If torn or bruised I, bleeding, lie, 

My Shepherd grieves — with pitying love 
He yearns to hear my feeble cry. 

Yea, pastures green are mine for rest, 

Aweary, by the waters still 
My Shepherd, watchful, tender, true, 

With holy peace my life would fill. 

Yea, He is mine! Oh, blessed thought! 

He calleth me, e'en me, by name; 
Though I should stray, He loveth still; 

Repentant, I His love may claim. 



A word divine! Upon a Cross 

'Twas hallowed evermore; 
A word that surely bringeth peace, 

When human hearts are sore. 

Forgive! A simple word — and yet 

So hard, so hard to say; 
When one is grieved, misunderstood, 

The sorrow clouds our day. 

Thou shouldst forgive, "till seven times " 

What hath the Saviour said ? 
"How oft has He forgiven thee ? " 

Ask this, O soul, instead. 


To-day alone is thine; 

The past is thine no more; 
What joy or grief thou mayst not know 

The morrows hold in store. 

To-day is thine to serve; 

Christ's vineyard ready stands 
Wherein thou mayst in every hour 

Obey His least commands. 

To-day the strength is given; 

Sought, 'twill sufficient be; 
For past regret, for griefs to come, 

'Twas never promised thee. 


To-day is thine for praise; 

To-day is thine to pray; 
God grant well spent the moments be 

Of His new gift — to-day. 


So small was it! the crumpled leaf, 

And yet, — and yet, — 
It vexed me sore, it marred my day; 
The hasty words it made me say 

I still regret. 

So small! yet was that little leaf 

With meaning fraught; 
O'er self to hold a tighter rein, 
Until I can the victory gain, 

The lesson taught. 


O Christ! along the narrow way 
Undaunted I with thee would go; 
Thy w ill alone thy child shouldst know 

And loyal, loving, thee obey. 

O Christ! with thee for staff and stay 
Thy yoke shall be a burden light; 
Through cloudless day, in darkest night 

I, loyal, loving, would obey. 

O Christ, whose promise is "alway," 
Mine unbelief I bring to thee; 
Thy wound prints, Saviour, show to me 

Who, loyal, loving, would obey. 


O Christ, when dawns eternal day, 
Thy perfect peace that child shall know, 
Who, through the darkness here below, 

Didst, loyal, loving, still obey. 


I long to hold it — yet I grope 

Along the narrow way; 
The flesh is weak — the spirit fails, 

I cannot even pray. 

I long to see it — yet the night 

Enfolds my spirit still; 
So frail am I, how can I know 

What is my Father's will. 

I long — yet all the while to me 
Outstretched is that dear hand; 

And all my utter helplessness 
His love doth understand. 

I hold it — else had I been lost: 
I see, though eyes be dim; 

Outstretched it is, and in the dark 
I still may lean on Him. 


It comes again! how shall I praise 
The tiny Babe in manger laid! 

How keep this blessed day of days 
Whereon the priceless Gift was made. 


Once more I hear the angel's song 
Of u Peace, good will toward men"; 

To every age it doth belong. 
Now echoed far and near again. 

Thy Bethlehem, O heart, must be 
The birth of new, of pure desire, 

Else Christmas meaneth nought to thee 
Who may not join the heavenly choir. 

The wondrous Star take still as guide; 

With eye of faith behold it shine; 
So shall thy life be sanctified 

An offering meet at manger shrine. 


Its rest and glad refreshment each weary soul should 

know, ; 

Whereby is gained new courage when one would 

forward go; 
By waters still — He leadeth, in pastures green 

we lie, 
And hearken in the stillness as Jesus passes by. 

Apart from worldly tumult, from trivial care and 

Apart from sore temptation, which erstwhile have 

The balm of perfect silence our restlessness shall 

And peace in benediction shall o'er the spirit steal. 


Perchance our prayer is voiceless, we may not even 

But simply wait for guidance, and lean upon our 

The " still small voice" then whispers to hearts in 

right attune, 
And, with the gentle Saviour, they are in sweet 


And when the door must open to let the world 

come in, 
And lifted be the burden of all its strife and din, 
The sacrament of silence has richest blessing 

In newborn strength and patience will every deed 

be wrought. 


Not only on this joyous day 

But all my life with thee, 
I'd forward press to Emmaus, 

Thy hidden meanings see. 

Not only rise with thee to-day, 

Resolved to conquer sin 
But hourly fight the deadly foes 

That ever wage within. 

Not only now, but ever, Lord, 

The Bread of Life is mine, 
And breaking it, I see the Christ 

As Risen Lord divine. 


Not only on this "day of days " 

But in the valley dim, 
A Risen Lord shall be my stay 

If I but lean on Him. 


Weary art thou ? Child, I pray thee, 

Upward turn thy gaze; 
Kept in charge of holy angels 

Tread the darksome ways; 
Tribulation as thy master 

In this world is thine, 
Yet, with me, thou too shalt conquer 

In a strength divine. 

Weary art thou ? Child, I ask thee 

For thy love to-day; 
Grieve not for the coming morrow, 

I will be thy stay; 
Sorrows meet thee ? I have known them; 

Seek the Father's will; 
'Mid the shadows, ever, ever, 

He is with thee still. 

Weary art thou ? Child, I urge thee 

Forward still to go; 
Soon, with peace and joy of heaven 

Shall thy heart o'erflow; 
Be of cheer, for I have conquered; 

Clasp thy hand in mine; 
So, at last, the warfare ended 

Victory shall be thine. 



In silence that the soul can feel 
Before thee, contrite, now we kneel; 
The silence enter, Christ! — abide, — 
And let us feel thee at our side 

The while we say 

"Now let us pray." 

Beyond all human ken thy peace; 
Oh, may it bid all tumult cease, 
And fill the souls that are thine own, 
The souls thy love did once atone, 

The while we say, 

"Now let us pray." 

When comes the silence naught may break, 
No trustful child shalt thou forsake; 
Love shall illume the valley dim, 
Each parting soul triumphant hymn 

And prayer be praise 

Through endless days. 


Around it memories sacred forevermore shall twine, 

Those needs so purely human, those graces most 

We long to serve with Martha, or else all joy com- 

If only we, with Mary, might sit at Jesus' feet. 

4 6 

O soul, do thou but hearken! He passeth by 
e'en now; 

Anoint with love and pity that thorn-encircled brow; 

He yearneth for thy friendship, without the world 
is chill. 

And thou canst bid Him welcome, for He is knock- 
ing still. 

Thou ever mayst confess Him, a sneering world 

When others would revile Him, the Nazarene adore; 
Aweary, still He pleadeth, oh, give Him of thy 

And in thy very heart-depths make Him the 

honored guest. 


Which cometh first! thine answer's writ 
In letters clear wouldst thou but see; 

Thy daily life, a light to guide 

Or dimmed whene'er thy choice is " me." 

Which cometh first! some lives can say 
In golden deeds unconscious wrought, 

That alway first there cometh "thee " 
And never time for selfish thought. 


Through them to live again! 
Oh! precious 'tis and sweet, 

To thus repeat 
The pleasure and the pain 

In one refrain. 


Through them to live again! 
For hopes of joys to be 

With trustful souls remain 

And ease their pain. 


(^Jeremiah I— 7) 

How much it says! this little word; 

'Tis fraught with meaning true; 
And yet, how oft I pass it o'er 

In all I say or do. 

The Father in His blessed Word, 

In giving a command, 
Repeats it as to me He speaks, — 

Shall I not understand ? 

"On whatsoever errand sent 
'Tis thither thou shouldst go; 

Or whatsoever I thee tell 
Let others also know." 

In mine own way I think to serve; 

Is not my wisdom nought ? 
Whene'er my life well spent would be 

God's will must first be sought. 

In whatsoe'er I do, His praise, 

His praise in all I say, 
And then — a peace beyond all ken 

That shall not pass away. 



A narrow way, by trial oft beset, 

And yet, O Lord, 'tis one that I would choose, 
Therein thy blessed footprints I may see, 

There find a life I do but seem to lose. 

A darkened way ? Nay, somber storm clouds 

And Faith thy love beholds in rifts of blue; 
Nor faltering feet need thy disciple fear, 

Thou with each step wilt failing strength renew. 

A lonely way ? Ah ! such 'twill never be, 
So hallowed by the feet that pressed it long 

Of saints beloved, whose daily touch I knew, 

Whose bright ensamples still should make me 

A way in which the blessedness is mine; 

Where, even now, may peace be won from strife; 
Take courage, soul! remembering always this: 

That "in the way of righteousness is life." 


Look not within, for thee 'twill lead to sinning; 

Sow not the seed of "I," of " me," of "mine"; 
Self-love uproot at every fresh beginning, 

Its clinging tendrils let not closer twine; 

On face upturned the light of heaven will shine. 



Give us to go blithely on our business all this 
day. — Robert Louis Stevenson 

Go blithely! for to serve thy God 

A joy should ever be; 
Rejoice! lift up the head, — the heart, — 

From sadness be thou free. 

Go blithely! Footsore, weary, thou ? 

His footsteps went before; 
Nor lagging tread, nor downcast mien, 

Thy Saviour can adore. 

Go blithely! See! a Pillar glows! 

No night of darkness, thine! 
Or one of cloud this day will light 

By radiance divine. 


How swiftly they are passing! 

These years of mortal life; 
Each full to overflowing 

Of storm, of stress, of strife. 

Of sorrows soothed, of duties done, 

Some stones may records be, 
Whilst others mark a road unknown, 

With windings none can see. 

Yet this we know, and bravely tread, 

As God appoints each mile, 
That, always looking up, reveals 

A Father's tender smile. 



If only I were stronger 
I'd conquer in the fight; 

When one is weak and ailing 
'Tis hard to do the right. 

If only I had riches 

The poor should never need; 

I envy not the miser 

With all hi love of greed, 
s & 

If only some would hearken 
When I wise counsel give, 

It would not seem so futile 
For others' good to live. 

If only God would let me 
In mine own way obey, 

I could be His disciple 
And tread the narrow way. 

Alas ! these u ifs " are blotting 
A page that might be fair; 

As God has set the copy, 

It should be writ — with care. 


{Phillips Brooks) 

Wherein the Christian's fullest joy ? 
Where lies the gold without alloy ? 
'Tis hidden in the heart's deep well, 
A bliss no spoken word may tell. 


Where lies the peace that God bestows 
As healing balm for all our woes ? 
The heart-throbs, tell the answer true, 
In calm that fills us through and through. 


O Saviour who for me this day 
The cruel cross didst bear, 

Make real to me that 'twas my sin 
That helped to nail thee there. 

Oh, teach me that the pains of death 
As man were truly thine; 

So shall I know, I too may die, 
Upheld by strength divine. 

If only I will follow close 
The print of wounded feet, 

See hands outstretched in love for me, 
Before the mercy seat. 


Lord, to thee I humbly kneel, 
Sweet peace doth o'er my spirit steal; 

1 know not what my soul doth need; — 
Thou knowest — and — for this I plead : 

That I of self may emptied be, 

And e'en my sins may leave with thee; 

That time to introspection given, 

May, henceforth, speed my way to heaven. 


Lord, to thee I yield my will; 
With thoughts of thee my spirit fill; 

1 cast myself upon thy care! 

Is not this. Lord, the truest prayer ? 


From out the deep I've called unto thee; 

Hearken, O Lord! 
And when I plead, "Have mercy upon me! " 

Hearken, O Lord! 
If thou extreme wilt be who may abide ? 
Low bend thine ear whilst I my griefs confide. 

I look for thee; for thee doth wait my soul; 

Hearken, O Lord! 
For thine atoning love canst make me whole; 

Hearken, my Lord! 
Before the night is spent or shadows flee, 
Ere dawn of day my spirit longs for thee. 

O Israel! O Israel, believe 

In Christ the Lord; 
The plenteous pardon for thy sins receive, 

He doth accord; 
With Him is mercy to supply thy need; 
When from the deep thou callest He will heed. 


Behind thee cast, as warrior strong, 
The thought that's idle, vexing, wrong; 
Else soon 'twill be a mighty throng. 



Hast thou not felt the longing that once thou couldst 

have known 
As Son of Man, the Saviour, who did for thee 

atone ? 
That with Him thou hadst trodden those paths of 

Hadst felt His gentle presence, and heard Him 

speak to thee ? 

Or, hast no longing filled thee in Bethany to dwell; 

To share with His disciples the words of sad fare- 

Those tender words of comfort, the " Peace" that 
souls could fill ? 

Such love and inspiration the coldest hearts should 

And then, — His prayer! too sacred those wondrous 

words had seemed 
Had He the veil not lifted for all of His redeemed; 
For me, those yearning wishes were wafted to the 

So earnest in their pleading, — " 'Tis not for these 


"But, for them also, Father, who shall believe 

on me; 
May they be one, my Father, as I am one with 

thee! " 
And so, — adown the ages, in tender echo rings 
The prayer for me once offered to God, the King 

of kings. 




I am an hungered; yearnings fill my soul; 

Hast thou no crust to give my bitter need ? 
Under whose banner didst thou once enroll ? 

'Tis for His sake I plead. 

Athirst am I! do not the cup withhold, — 
But give it me, I pray, o'erflowing still 

And say, " Oh ! wanderer from the Shepherd's fold, 
For His dear sake, I will." 

Upon thy threshold speak the kindly word; 

A stranger knocks, — show him an open door; 
By One thy tone of welcome shall be heard; 

For His sake I implore. 

Oh! let the garment of thy love enfold, 
And by thy pity all my suffering share; 

For One has loved thee with a love untold: 
u For His sake, " is my prayer. 

In prison! yet, to me in mercy come, — 
For by thy love shall fetters loosened be; 

So shalt thou hear in tender welcome home, 
"Ye did it unto me." 


The while the world rejoicing blooms, 
Now winter storms are o'er, 

No longer tempest-tossed my heart 
Would thee, O Christ, adore; 


Thy resurrection be my song, 

Thy glory fill my thought, 
Oh, henceforth, may each deed of mine 

Be for thine honor wrought. 

Oh, grant that I, the things above, 

Sustained by promised strength, 
May ever seek, rejoicing still, 

Through all my journey's length; 
May words that I to-day shall sing, 

Be those of heartfelt praise, 
O Saviour dear, whose love for me, 

Shall intercede always. 

So may I rise, with thee, to-day, 

That through the music clear, 
As thou shalt call, the tender note 

My listening soul shall hear; 
May I, through earth-clouds parted now, 

The light of heaven see, 
A daily song my life become, 

Of richest melody. 


Rabboni, I to thee would pray, 
And thee, Rabboni, would obey, 
My doubts forever rolled away. 

Oh, may " Rabboni!" incense sweet, 
Ascend unto the mercy-seat, 
As, daily, I thy love entreat. 


"Rabboni!" I, adoring, call, 
And at thy feet I prostrate fall; 
"Rabboni!" "Christ! "mine" All-in-AU!" 


Loving Shepherd, when I stray 

Far from thee across the wold, 
Show to stumbling feet the way 

That shall lead to sheltering fold; 
Let, O Christ, thy word- of peace 

Bring the calm that follows strife, 
From sin's fetters grant release, 

Seal my pardon, give me life. 

Blest Redeemer, hear my prayer! 

By thy wondrous peace divine 
Lighten every load of care, 

Heal each open wound of mine; 
Not as this world dost thou give, 

For thy priceless boon to me 
Shall be mine the while I live, 

And — for all eternity. 

Jesus, Saviour, when I near, 

With each feeble, fluttering breath, 
That lone valley dim and drear 

Which to earthly sight is death; 
Then, it faint, with closing ear, 

Ere my spiritwings its flight, 
"Peace be unto you! " I hear, — 

All my darkness shall be light. 



Now another Easter 

Dawns o'er all the world, 
Every Christian banner 

Is anew unfurled; 
For the grave is empty, 

Death has lost its sting, 
To a Risen Saviour 

Loyal hearts may sing. 

Yea, another Easter 

Brings its message dear 
From the shining angels: 

"Lo! Heisnothere!" 
" Where, O Grave, thy victory ? 

Where, O Death, thy sting ? 
Christ the Lord is risen! " 

Hearts, rejoicing, sing. 

And, — another Easter 
Does sweet peace impart, 

By its words of comfort 
To the mourner's heart; 

" Christ has won the victory; 
Death has lost its sting; " 

Both in earth and heaven, 
All the faithful sing. 



Sweet counsel! Oh, 'tis blessing rare, 
A tender answer to their prayer, 
When fainting hearts affection crave, 
A love that from themselves shall save. 

For counsel sweet brings high endeavor, 
A courage that is daunted never; 
As, hand in hand, we forward press, 
The path is smoothed by tenderness. 

Sweet counsel ! As we talk of Him 
Together, eyes with tears are dim; 
On earth, in Bethany's repose, 
He sought relief from bitter foes. 

And when sweet counsel seems to end 
In anguished partings from a friend, 
A smile we yet may bravely w T ear, 
We still His love together share. 


{From "The Life of The Master" by John 
Watson, D.D.) 

A living Christ! not far away, but near; 
To Emmaus, with Him, we journey here; 
The hidden mysteries He doth open still, 
Himself reveal to all who do His will. 


A Christ who suffers with each Christian soul, 
Who bids us all press onward to the goal; 
Who welcomes Magdalene, nor ever spurns 
The vilest sinner who repentant turns. 

The hands and feet once marred by cruel nail 
He still doth show when darkest doubts assail; 
He turns to look when Peters still deny, 
And sorrows when He meets a traitor's eye. 

A living Christ who still Himself doth give; 
By faith in whom we each of us may live; 
To whom "Rabboni " some, adoring, cry, 
Whilst others shout the cruel " Crucify! " 


They keep step to the same music. 

— Edmund H. Sears 

A thought to keep us faithful, to make us brave and 

That to a countless army we each of us belong; 
The clarion is calling o'er all the land and sea, 
W 7 hilst, keeping step, we're marching — before us 


A thought to give us patience, to make us joyous 

Those witnesses around us, intent on all we do; 
With martial music falling upon each willing ear. 
They, keeping step, are marching, with us who 

struggle here. 


A thought to soothe in sorrow, each drooping head 

to raise, 
The Church above doth join us in every deed of 

That earthly music swelling is echoed far above, 
And, keeping step, we alway may share the 

Saviour's love. 

A thought our faith to strengthen, in that dread 

valley dim, 
Of each who went before us as conqueror through 

The battle cry falls faintly upon the dying ear, 
Yet, keeping step, we'll conquer, for victory is near. 


We've forgotten, in the bustle of these modern times 

we know, 
The tender, true religion of the peaceful long ago; 
A dim and shadowy picture that memory scarce 

can see, 
The grandmother so saintly, the Good Book on her 


We've forgotten baby voices as they lisped the little 

We've forgotten mother's teachings (left now in 

nurse's care); 
All the troubled child-confessions that mothers 

used to hear, 
And ''father" is a " governor" now, not one they 

must revere. 


We've forgotten all the blessings of the times we 

daily knelt 
For the hallowed, sweet home-worship that so 

earnestly we felt; 
When " father" read the chapter and "mother" 

raised the hymn; 
Oh! as I now recall it my eyes with tears grow dim. 

WVve forgotten all those Sundays which so happily 

were spent, 
When " going to church" was something that life 

a beauty lent; 
When hymns were sung with fervor to tunes we 

each had learned, 
And we filled the mission-boxes with the pennies we 

had earned. 

We've forgotten! Ah, remembrance grows faint 

and fainter yet, 
And the days that speed us onward we shall more 

and more regret, 
If we strive not to remember that blessed long ago, 
When Jesus Christ, the lowly, a perfect life did 



Check the hasty answer; 

Smooth the wrinkling brow; 
By and by, repentant, 

Thou wilt grieve for now. 

Check the thought that frets thee; 

In a little while 
Thou thyself wilt conquer, 

Winning with a smile. 



A little bird of varied hue 

One day within my casement flew; 

Its carol was now grave, now gay, — 

But ofttime harsh, I grieve to say. 
Unheeding aught of right or wrong, 
I, breathless, harkened to its song, 

And gathered crumbs and bade it stay, 

So much I revelled in its lay! 

And yet it chanced this little bird 

Some unkind thoughts within me stirred; 
Its sorry song I'd voice again, 
I cared not how, nor cared I when! 

All that it warbled grew and grew, 

Discordant with its tale of rue; 

Until, when dusk was shutting down, 
I watched it fly away to town. 

A little bird ! If it should fly 

Into thy home nest, by and by, 
I do entreat thee have a care, — 
Of all its songs shouldst thou beware! 

Be sure when it again has flown 

That thou thine idle words atone; 

Its name, perchance, thou canst divine, 
Else, vainly writ this song of mine. 


A little cross, — and yet, 
Through shadowed days, 

On tired shoulders laid 
Too much it weighs. 


A tiny thorn — and yet, 

So deep its wound 
There seems no healing balm 

Can e'er be found. 

A hasty word — and yet 
A sword-thrust keen; 

What joy, unspoken still, 
There might have been. 

A tender touch — and yet 

Possessing power 
A heavy cross to ease 

In darkest hour. 

A winning smile — and yet 
With sunshine fraught; 

One may not know how great 
The charm it wrought. 

A gentle word — and yet 

'Twere hard to say 
How oft its echo cheers 

A saddened day. 


While the stars are vigil keeping, 

Be thou sleeping 
Safe beneath a sheltering wing; 
Trust in One who slumbereth never, 

Guardeth ever, 
Those who to His mercy cling. 

6 4 

By still waters now He leadeth 

And thee feedeth, 
Wear)' soul, with manna blest; 
He may send thee on the morrow 

Joy or sorrow, — 
Take to-night His gift of rest. 

Fear not thou the stormy billow 

When thy pillow 
Is the loved disciple's own; 
Gain thou strength that, with thy waking 

Sin forsaking, 
Thou mayst serve thy Lord alone. 

When at length there comes the dawning 

Of that morning 
Which no shadowy eve can know, 
From God's presence then, nor ever, 

Naught shall sever 
Faithful hearts that joy o'erflow. 


(Not for ourselves alone) 

Three simple words ! yet full of meaning true, 
Whene'er we long for loving work to do; 
The Golden Rule with all our might to heed, 
And sympathize in every brother's need. 

Three simple w T ords ! yet if by them we live, 
What may we not, perchance unconscious, give! 
How full of sunshine darkened homes may be, 
How often sad, imprisoned souls set free! 


Three simple words! Lord, give us daily strength, 
That,hour by hour, throughout our journey's length, 
Their lesson still may patiently be learned, 
Until " Well done," thy blest reward, is earned. 


(i Thess. v. 16) 

O struggling soul so faltering, 

Let all thy murmurs cease; 
Look up and smile, let hope beguile 

Till restlessness be peace; 
For He thou servest loveth 

With an almighty love; 
Thine every prayer invokes the care 

Unfailing trust shall prove. 

O sorrowing soul, with steadfast gaze, 

The bow of promise see; 
When love shines through the rifts of blue 

All clouds and shadows flee; 
The Christ who wept with Mary 

Each human grief can feel; 
By healing balm He giveth calm, 

And doth His love reveal. 

O martyr soul, who for His name 

Worthy to suffer art, 
Now leap for joy, naught can destroy 

The peace within thy heart; 
Thou sharest with thy Saviour 

The cruel crown of thorn; 
Gethsemane and Calvary 

He for thy sake hath borne. 


The valley of the shadow reached, 

Alone thou needst not be; 
Rejoice, O soul! so near the goal, 

For Christ is still with thee; 
Thou soon, with all the angels, 

Shalt alleluias sing, 
And with one voice fore'er rejoice 

In Him, thy Lord and King. 


Come ye apart! in love I plead, 

E'en for a little while; 
Forget those fleeting, empty joys 

That oft your souls beguile. 

Come ye apart! for pardon pray. 

Whilst listening ear I bend; 
If ye but struggle for the right 

Mine arm shall e'er defend. 

Come ye apart! My praise to sing 
Within my courts to dwell; 

As solemn sweet the anthem rolls 
'Twill joy of heaven foretell. 

Come ye apart! in stillness rest; 

In silence lowly kneel; 
'Tis ever to the listening heart 

That I, myself, reveal. 



It is so hard, at once, to yield, 

And with a smiling grace; 
For self to choose the lower room 

In lieu of higher place. 

It is so hard to yield the will; 

The gracious word to say; 
When, often, a clear judgment tells 

Ours is the better way. 

It is so hard not to explain 

The word misunderstood; 
To claim the praise, the blame to lose, 

Who would not if he could ? 

'Tis hard, yet the disciple will 

Surrender self each day, 
If only he will pause to ask, 

" What was the Master's way ? " 


The daily round of common care 
Need never common be, 

If sanctified by earnest prayer 
And lived, O God, for thee. 

The daily round a field may be 
Where wheat or tares we sow; 

If fed by dews from heaven above, 
None but the wheat need grow. 


The daily round, a battle-plain 
Where we may lose or win; 

More deadly than the foes without 
Are those who wage within. 

The daily round a ladder is; 

To mount it strength is given; 
For those who neither faint nor fall 

The topmost rung is heaven. 


Above me hung a darkening sky, 

Dense clouds obscured the blue; 
No ray of heavenborn light to cheer 

Or dying hopes renew; 
Yet, in the shadow, to thy hand, 

I, trustful, still did cling, 
And found a covert from the storm — 

Beneath thy sheltering wing. 

Above me dawns a brightening sky, 

Through rifts I see the blue, 
A ray of hope doth bring me joy, 

Borne on the rainbow's hue; 
In cloud or sunshine, Lord, I see 

That Love ordaineth all; 
And, clinging still to strength divine, 

I may not faint or fall. 

And when, for me, the cloudless sky 

Of Paradise shall shine, 
I'll know the love now "darkly" seen 

By these dim eyes of mine; 

6 9 

Ah! then, my prayer, now feebly breathed, 

Shall lose itself in praise, 
Glad echoes through thy courts resound, 

For endless, happy days. 

(( T >> 

A veil of mist by which the sight 

Doth lose its clearer rays; 
A restless thought that mars content, 

And dims the brightest days; 
What is the cloud in azure sky ? 
It is that little vexing " I. " 

So dearly loved, so petted, spoiled, 

Through many a listless day, 
When, but for it, a busy life 

Could shadows chase away; 
The tangled thread that goes awry 
Is but that little selfish "I. " 

Ah! more than that! thine image, Lord, 

Is " darkly" seen by me, 
Until thy love my heart shall fill, 

And self be lost in thee; 
By strength divine, when thou art nigh, 
Toward heavenly things my thoughts shall fly. 


The fields are ripe for harvest 

But laborers are few; 
We may not stand as idlers 

While God hath work to do. 


Where have we gleaned to-day, Lord, 
What have we done for Thee, 

Who wast for our salvation 

Nailed to the shameful tree ? 

The fields are ripe for harvest! 

O Lord! our faith renew, 
And buckle on the armor 

Of soldiers, steadfast, true; 
May we be nothing daunted, 

But "go forth" in thy name, 
The gospel of salvation 

To thy lost sheep proclaim. 

The fields are ripe for harvest! 

May we ne'er go astray, 
But guide the blind and fallen 

Into " the narrow way" ; 
So, in the last great Harvest, 

Full-ripened sheaves we'll bring, 
That we may fill the garner 

Of Christ, our Lord and King. 


I never knew the height and depth 

Of my dear Father's love 
Until, through suffering, I learned 

His tenderness to prove; 
Through rifts in darkest clouds I see 

Light coming from above. 

As sunrise gilds each mountain top, 
Faith lights that " narrow way," 

The path my weary feet must climb 
To reach the perfect day; 

And, sorrow-taught, I lean on One 
Whose will I must obey. 

The peace beyond all knowledge now 

Shall my sweet portion be, 
By strength divine my cross I lift, 

While love sustaineth me; 
In His good time I'll lay it down 

For all eternity. 


(The inscription on a sun dial*) 

The shadow of mine unbelief! Oh, let it pass away 
Till all the things eternal I view as cloudless day; 
Mine art thou, Sun of Righteousness, the while I 

struggle here, 
A light that shineth ever though darkness seemeth 


The shadow of my suffering! May it too pass 

Give me the peace that cometh when I thy will obey; 

*The sun dial, bearing the inscription which sug- 
gested these lines, was given "In Memoriam, ,, and 
stands upon the sight of the Cathedral of SS. Peter and 
Paul, at Washington, D. C. 


For pain is hallowed ever since thou hast suffering 

A light shines on the pathway I need not tread 


The shadow of my sorrowing shall also pass away; 
Whene'er I seek for comfort thou wilt not say m3 

In holy radiance gleaming Gethsemane I see, 
And, though my cup o'erflow'eth, I drink it, Christ, 
for thee. 

The shadows of this fitful life at length shall flee 

Then I shall see the dawning of an eternal day; 

Oh, Lamb of God, the vision give, to light my dark- 
ness here, 

Of jasper-stone most precious, that shines as crystal, 


O Lord of Easter, I would haste 

To keep this festal day; 
No longer barred the rock-hewn tomb, 

The stone is rolled away. 

O Lord of Easter, I to-day 

Would journey at thy side; 
With eyes no longer holden see 

My Master glorified. 

O Lord of Easter, I would share, 
Till earthly storms shall cease, 

The farewell blessing thou didst give, 
The balm of heavenly peace. 


O Lord of Easter, I, to thee, 

Would unbelief confide; 
With thy disciple I would feel 

Thy wounded hands and side. 

O Lord of Easter, I would strive 

To keep this festal day, 
All dread and darkening doubt, by faith, 

Forever rolled away. 


In the valley shadows gather, 
Mists the light of heaven obscure, 

On the uplands lies the sunshine — 
There the air is keen and pure. 

In the valley of our doubtings 
Mists of tears shall dim the eye; 

Climb we bravely to the uplands, 
There to view a cloudless sky. 

Let us leave the vale behind us, 
Cease to dread the steep ascent; 

Holy feet have left their imprint, 
Follow we the way they went; 

Till we, too, reach Pisgah's summit, 
Cling we to the Guiding Hand, 

F~ r , the golden, glorious uplands 
Are to us a Promised Land. 



Easter morn in radiant glory 

Dawneth o'er the earth again! 
Bursting blossoms tell, thy story 
O'er and o'er in glad refrain; 
From thy prison 
Hast thou risen, 
Resurrection art thou singing, 
Praise to thy Creator bringing. 

Lord of Easter! let thy glory 

Ease our sorrowing hearts of pain; 
O'er and o'er the wondrous story 
May we sing in glad refrain; 
Christ is risen 
From Death's prison, 
Light from darkness Faith is bringing; 
Joy and Hope are now upspringing. 


I never knew, before, the world 

So beautiful could be 
As I have found it since I learned 

All care to cast on thee; 
The scales have fallen from mine eyes, 

And now the light I see. 

I never knew how very dear 

My fellowmen could be, 
Until I learned to help them with 

A ready sympathy; 
Their inner lives have made me know 

A broader charity. 


I never knew how little things 
As greater ones could be, 

When sanctified by love for One 
Who doth each effort see; 

But now, a daily round of care 
May win a victory. 

I never knew; and still, dear Lord, 
As through a glass I see, 

And perfect light can only come 
When I shall dwell with thee; 

When in thy likeness I awake, 
For all eternity. 


Oh, think a happy thought, 
Thy blessings number o'er; 

The grateful heart so fraught 
Will be, for thee, one more. 

Oh, smile a sunny smile, 

'Twill chase dark clouds away; 

'Twill shorten every mile 
Thou treadest day by day. 

Oh, speak in cheery tone, 
For echoed is each word; 

Not by thyself alone 
Its joyousness is heard. 

7 6 

The rainbow arch above 
Hope's lifted eye may see; 

The promise of God's love, 
Now and eternally. 


Underneath my weakness, underneath my care, 
Underneath the longing of each wordless prayer; 
Holding and upholding, with a love untold, 
Thus those Arms Eternal all my life enfold. 

Underneath the sorrow that for sin I feel, 
Underneath the anguish they, as balm, can heal, 
Holding and upholding, when I'm sore oppressed, 
In those Arms Eternal may I peaceful rest. 

Underneath the doubtings that my faith assail, 
Underneath the trembling, if, at death, I quail, 
Holding and upholding, they my soul shall keep; 
In those Arms Eternal may I "fall asleep." 


Couldst thou but know her counsel wise, 
So often sought, from near, from far, 

The kindling of those speaking eye's, 
That brightly shine as guiding star; 

Couldst thou once clasp her hand in thine, 
And feel the charm unwritten here, 

Then, only then, couldst thou portray 
My mother dear. 


Couldst thou once hear the earnest tone 
In which she speaks a firm command, 

(A Medes' and Persians' law alone, 
'Tis thus her word I understand); 

And yet, so just is she, and true, 

There is no room for thought of fear, 

Nor, can I swerve with her for guide, 
My mother dear. 

Couldst thou but love her as I've loved, 
A love my other loves beyond, 

Her depths of tenderness had proved 
How firmly knit the precious bond; 

My sunshine is her ready smile, 
Her presence always I revere, 

Away, my sky is overcast, 
My mother dear. 

The milestones flit! Is growing old 
The passing of the years away ? 

The flower to me doth still unfold 
More perfect beauty day by day; 

Of self, her own, hath she no thought, 
'Tis ever how to others cheer, 

And thus her youth eternal blooms, 
My mother dear. 


Lord, I kneel thy cross before, 
Pardon for my sins implore, 
Strength to serve thee evermore. 


Lord, before thy cross I kneel; 
In my forehead set thy seal; 
To my soul thyself reveal. 

May I bravely bear each loss. 
Deem all earthly joys but dross, 
When I kneel before thy cross. 


I thank thee for my life, dear Lord, 

For all the earthly blessings given, 
Beyond all else for treasures stored 
From moth and rust fore'er in heaven; 
My heart a melody doth sing, 
And o'er it reigns my Saviour King, 
To whose dear cross, I, trustful, cling. 

O Lord, again thy name I praise, 

That thou didst leave thy gift of peace 

My saddened soul in darkened days 

It doth from doubt and fear release; 

I thank thee for the strength divine, 

By which my hand I clasp in thine, 

And know, for aye, thy love is mine. 


A hasty thought, O Lord, forgive. 
Sweet patience grant the while I live; 
A hasty word would I repress, 
The Spirit's fruit is gentleness; 
To leave undone the hasty deed, 
Vouchsafe the strength in time of need. 



To my heart those blessed words, 

Lord, I pray that thou shouldst speak, 

That thy kingdom evermore 
I may first and alway seek. 

To my mind, again, dear Lord, 

Speak those wondrous words, I pray; 

Give me grace to understand, 
Wisdom ere to guide my way. 

To my soul those loving words 
Rapture evermore shall bring; 

All my life and being thine! 

Enter thou, my God! my King! 

At the threshold speak them, Lord, 
Fling the heavenly portals wide; 

Heart and mind, my soul, my all, 
Shall with thee be glorified. 


I need not wait some mighty deed 
In praise of God, for men, to do, 

For here, to-day, there is enough 
By which to prove my love is true. 

I need not search the way to find 
That to self-sacrifice doth lead, 

Each thought of daily life may be 
For others who my help shall need. 


I need not sink, nor need I fail, 

Though weary oft be heart and brain; 

It is for Christ my strength is spent. 
His "inasmuch" makes brave again. 

I need alone to know that I, 
A servant, as my Lord may be; 

As was His life, can also mine 
Be one of blessed ministry. 


Speak unto the children of Israel that they go 
forward. — Ex. xiv. 15 

The promised land to every soul 

Far in the distance gleams; 
Go forward, then, nor halting wait, 

Dream thou no idle dreams. 

While yet 'tis day, still forward go, 
Keep thou thine armor bright; 

Whose time is spent in vain regret 
Shall never win the fight. 


A trustful prayer will lighten care 

For every tired heart; 
And though the burden still may press, 

New strength will faith impart; 
Through busy hours is echoed still 

The soft u Amen " we say; 
G^d's love is near, dispelling fear, 
Alway, alway. 



A song of praise will brighten days 

That else were sad and drear; 
The minor chord its joy can still, 

And other souls 'twill cheer; 
For weary pilgrims, sore oppressed, 

Its glad refrain may sing, 
"Emmanuel, Emmanuel, 
Our King, our King! " 

Bear ye one another s burdens. — Gal. vi. 2 

A cheery tone, a smile, a handclasp close — 
What little ways to give another cheer! 

Yet, were it not for such dear things as these, 

How dark this world would be, each day how 


It is not what one does, but what one tries to do, 
that makes the soul strong and fit for a noble career. 

— E. P. Tenney 

As clay within the potter's hand 
Is fashioned at his command, 
So, if to God our wills we yield, 
And trust His purpose unrevealed, 
Unconscious we in stature grow, 
Through golden days, in times of woe; 
'Tis not alone by deeds we do, 
Our souls become both strong and true; 
The striving e'er to perfect be, 
Doth fit us for eternity. 



God's "hitherto" has "henceforth" wrapped up 
in it. — Alex Maclaren, D.D. 

Yea, hitherto, while flowers bloomed 

And sunbeams danced along the way, 
Or else, when storm-clouds hid the blue, 

As sorrow did her scepter sway; 
The while the Father's hand was clasped, 

Or, groping, thou hast held it still, 
So, hitherto, hast thou been led 

His love to feel, to do His will. 

Henceforth! O blessed thought! until 

The morning breaks, the shadows flee, 
No joy thou mayst not sanctify, 

No grief too great shall come to thee; 
God's " hitherto " henceforth enfolds — 

Renew thy faith, O timid soul! 
Henceforth a crown awaiteth thee, 

Press onward, bravely, to the goal. 


Lord, I would unconscious pray, 
Keeping near thee day by day; 
Noise and tumult, sin and strife, 
Vexing things of common life, 
Through them all, O Saviour mine, 
I would trust the strength divine. 


Lord, I would unswerving pray, 
While glad sunshine gilds my way, 
Or, when fiercest is the fight, 
And my day is changed to night; 
Victory still, O Saviour mine, 
I would win by strength divine. 

Thou who knowst the inmost hearf 
Best of blessings wilt impart; 
Lord, unfailing as thy care, 
Never ceasing be my prayer, 
'Mid those joys beyond all ken 
Echoed be the last "Amen." 


(Suggested by words of Charles Kingsley) 

To any lone or sorrowing soul, 

Have I, of sunshine, brought a ray ? 

Or have I been on self intent ? 
I ask this, Lord, at close of day. 

Have I, by deed or precept, brought 
To questioning soul some clearer ray ? 

Or, have I labored, self-absorbed ? 
This, Lord, I ask, at close of day. 

The world before has my light shone 
With steady, clear, and helpful ray ? 

If in thy footsteps I have trod, 
How sweet my rest at close of day ! v 

8 4 


Oh, say it o'er and o'er, with gentle cadence, too, 
The answer that hath magic, wrong feeling to undo; 
And say it ever bravely, no matter what the cost; 
Pour oil upon those waters, that else were tempest 

Oh, say it o'erand o'er, and think of Christ the while; 
Though burning tears would blind thee, yet wear a 

sunny smile, 
Though hidden 'neath thy courage, there throbs a 

sinking heart, 
For His dear sake be steadfast, in strength He doth 


Oh, say it o'er and o'er, then Wrath will turn away, 
And Peace upon thy spirit her tender touch shall lay; 
Oh, say it o'er and o'er, till Love supreme shall reign, 
For Him the meek and lowly, who answered not 


When faults distress, 
Temptations press, 
Oh! grant me in believing, 
Although I know my nothingness, 
To feel that thou the efforts bless 
I make in their retrieving. 


When dark the day, 
When rough the way, 
Grant solace for that hour; 
To lean on thee, my staff, my stay, 
To, patient, all thy will obey, 
Vouchsafe the grace and power. 

When I must sleep 
The slumber deep 
That knows, on earth, no waking, 
My hand in thine I'd trustful keep; 
Then, show to thy once wayward sheep, 
The light eternal breaking. 


Keep outstretched the helping hand, 
Have the heart to understand 
What the magic of a touch; 
Heed thy Saviour's "Inasmuch"; 
His dear hand within thine own 
All thy weakness shall atone. 


I hear the merry voices of children in their glee, — 
The jingling of the sleighbells is melody to me, 
While from the belfry wafted, in rhythm true and 

The chimes the Christmas story to listening world 



There is another music — the heart can hear the 

To souls by love attuned is echoed its refrain; 
What wonder that the earth-sounds do faint and 

fainter grow, 
When 'tis the voice of Jesus, the waiting ear may 



The treasures thou wouldst garner, 

Lord, ask them now of me, 
That so my life may ever 

Abound in love to thee : 
Oh, daily, may I gather 

The sheaves of service true, 
And bind with my allegiance 

Whate'er I find to do. 

" Each day, I ask thee bravely, 

The cross I send to bear, 
And for the self-denial 

That doth with others share; 
For helpful words I hearken 

Though weary thou mayst be, 
That slights and other's doubting 

Be meekly borne for me." 

"I ask thee to be patient, 
No day is commonplace, 

For every homely duty 

Thou hast my promised grace; 


I ask thee to be joyous, 

My child should ne'er repine, 

When giving self completely, 
Thy life is lost in mine." 

Lord, bravely will I gather 

These sheaves of service true, 
Through storm or sunshine, daily, 

Thou wilt my strength renew; 
Then, though unfilled thy garner, 

I've naught withheld from thee, 
And love shall bind the treasures 

For all eternity. 


" Put out the lights ! " Be my last thought a prayer; 
Thy weary warrior seeks his Captain's care; 
The morrow's march shall his endurance test, 
Till daylight breaks, may he in safety rest. 

When on closed ear shall all unheeded fall 
The silvery notes of evening's bugle call, 
Oh, may his head be pillowed on thy breast, 
The peace be won — of everlasting rest. 


The bugle sounds! be thine my waking thought! 
For love of thee may this day's deeds be wrought; 
I gird mine armor — be it my delight 
In face of foes to battle for the right. 

Be this my prayer, at each new reveille: 
"Thy soldier guard and keep him true to thee, 
Till smoke of battle shall be rolled away, 
And, cloudless, dawn the Everlasting Day." 


What though the skies seem leaden, the days too 
long or drear, 

What if the burden wearies, though falleth oft the 
tear ? 

I know that rifts are opening and brightness break- 
ing through, 

That, somewhere in His heaven, God sets a bit of 

I know He loves me truly, though sending trials 

That He will lead me gently, o'er paths untrod 

Though I may stumble often, or long for pastures 

In His good time I, surely, shall find that bit of blue. 

It cometh oft by trusting; I may/iot earthward gaze, 
I may not seek to fathom the wisdom of His ways, 
But, looking ever upward, I'll strive His will to do, 
Till, somber storm-clouds parting, I see my bit 
of blue. 

8 9 


I cling to thee through storm and stress, 
I own my utter nothingness; 
Upheld by thee from hour to hour, 
My weakness lost in thy great power, 
I shall not faint — I cannot fail, 
Though fiercest foes my strength assail. 

Through storm and stress I cling to thee; 
I trust the love that chastens me; 
The love that doth renew my strength, 
Each step along my journey's length; 
Within that powerful hand of thine, 
I lay this feeble one of mine. 

I cling to thee through storm and stress; 
Vouchsafe, O Lord, thy child to bless; 
Oh, day by day, with manna feed, 
Thy grace sufficient for my need; 
Eternal Peace my harbor be 
When storm and stress shall cease for me. 


Journey with me, blessed Saviour, 
Through the day that dawneth now; 

Though the heat of noonday weary, 
Let me turn not from the plough. 

Over dreary waste or desert, 
If I climb the mountain steep, 

Guide thou all my faltering footsteps, 
I in thine my hand would keep. 


Should dark clouds above me gather, 
Or if sunshine light the way, 

May my heart be constant ever, 
Love for thee its guiding ray. 

When the evening shadows deepen, 
Be thou still my staff, my stay; 

Show to Faith the radiant dawning 
Of an everlasting day. 


Just a little deed, so small 
Hardly is it seen at all; 
Yet, for One who holds us dear, 
Feeling thus His presence near, 
Never deed in vain is done, 
All are counted, one by one. 

Just a little deed may be 
Blessed in its ministry, 
Give another needed cheer, 
Courage grant to those who fear; 
*' Cups of water" in His name, 
Better far than works of fame. 

When with love our hearts o'erflow, 
Little deeds are seeds we sow, 
Bearing fruit abundant, sweet, 
For the Master's vineyard meet; 
If we in the Vine abide, 
All we do is sanctified. 



May these brave words, O soldier, thy motto be, 

To spur thee to thy duty through uneventful days, 
Lest thou forget how vigilant thine enemy can be, 
And he, thy tarnished armor, shall thus rejoice to 


Inscribe them on thy banner when thou shalt face 

the foe, 
Though fierce the battle rageth, forward, undaunted 

Nor sheathe thy sword till conquered is every hated 

And thou from Christ thy Captain shalt fadeless 

laurels win* 

If at the last thou fightest with feeble, flickering 

Unswerving in thy courage, although the foe be 

When "Taps" in solemn requiem the bugle sounds 

o'er thee, 
Still u Fidus ad Extremum ,, thy triumph song shall 



By thinking of others through all the day long, 
A workaday life we may turn into song, 
Whose rhythm hath power the pulses to thrill, 
With love to the Father our brethren instil. 


By saying kind words 'tis a song of good cheer, 
The weary may list till he drieth the tear. 
His hope live anew in its gladsome refrain, 
While a courage newborn will banish the pain. 

By doing for others the melody swells; 

The music of heaven it, joyous, foretells; 

For burthens grow light and the faith true and 

Whenever one hearkens to such a sweet song. 


The hills whose strength, dear Lord, is Thine; 

By solemn silence praises yield; 
Unmoved as they, each Christmas heart, 

To whom thy love hath been revealed. 

"The hills from whence my help shall come: " 
That blessed balm to heal each pain; 

In holy hush the reverent soul 

May softly breathe this sweet refrain. 

The hills the Holy City guard; 

As sentinels, unfailing, stand; 
Thy love thy chosen ones doth keep 

Within the hollow of thy hand. 

The hills! the mountain-top for thee 
A temple wast, where, free from strife, 

In prayer thou didst the Father seek, 
And gathered strength for daily life. 


So, to the hills, with earnest gaze, 

I ever turn in wordless prayer; 
Thou leavest not in valley dim, 

The soul who trusts thy promised care. 


Ah, yes! fit name this life to give, for many-hued it 

As, piece by piece, the pattern grows, though we 

dream idle dreams; 
Of broken bits I dare not tell — those missing, dull, 

'Twere best to note the brighter side, in wondrous 

pattern traced. 

To human sight, in like array, the crowd oft flitteth 

Yet Love divine, as precious gems, some fragments 

can espy; 
Their beauty, painted by the soul, rejoiceth with 

its power, 
The while, across our thorny path, they glow as 

brilliant flower. 

Perchance, in somber shade, we see a brave, yet 

rugged soul! 
Such, as we gaze, new strength impart, for pressing 

toward the goal, 
The hand of God doth fashion some, in forms no 

eye may see, 
"So incomplete/' we say, — to Him, so rich in 



These varied lives, mosaic each, when shall they 

jhed he ? 
And what the pattern I shall bear for all eternity ? 
The Master knows! () soul, believe, the answer's 

writ in heaven; 
So pray, so live, so die, — that thou rejoice when 

it is given. 


'Tis only for a moment, a fleeting glimpse have we, 
And then, our paths divergent, lead other scenes 

to see; 
'Tis only for an instant we grasp another's hand, 
Yet all of us are pilgrims — our goal the Promised 


'Tis only for a moment, and yet that time is fraught 

With power to help or hinder, as good or ill is 

To point the narrow pathway that each of us should 

Or else, how dare we think it! our brother to for- 

Though only for a moment, whene'er the heart be 

The lives we touch are better for all we say or do; 
If travel-stained and weary, we follow still the 

We thus may cheer and strengthen one passing by 

our side. 



The daylight breaks! Awake to praise 
The Lord thy God, with heart and soul, 

Nor backward glance, — thy yesterdays 
Are gone, — and forward lies the goal; 

Again for Christ thy banner raise, 
As soldier true thy name enroll. 

Fierce noonday heat! Discouraged thou ? 

Dost falter ere the race be won ? 
Before the throne still humbly bow, 

And pray no good to leave undone; 
Then, strengthened, rise to conquer now, 

For love of the eternal Son. 

At set of sun, 'mid shadows deep, 

In earnest prayer to Him draw near, 

For He His chosen ones doth keep, 
His guiding light makes duty clear; 

So, take His blessed gift of sleep, 

For peace shall soothe thine every fear. 

Unceasing pray, so shalt thou learn 

The joy all other joys beside; 
Then will thy heart within thee burn, 

And life in Him be sanctified, 
If thou shouldst stray, to Him return, 

In His great love, once more, abide. 

9 6 


O fainting soul! fresh courage take, 
In thought of thy dear Lord; 

Thine every deed is known to One, 
Who promiseth reward. 

When to this earth of old He came, 

Emmanuel to be, 
What bright ensample was His life! 

From thought of self how free! 

Each quiet day at Nazareth, 

He did the Father's will; 
And in the dark Gethsemane, 

He sought to do it still. 

"Not as I will:— Not as I will," 

The burthen of thy cry; 
Thyself thou must not seek to please, 
But Christ to glorify. 

Then, struggling soul, look up and see 
Thy Saviour's tender smile; 

The day will break, the shadows flee, 
In just " a little while." 


Just where I am! Perchance my lot 
'Mid briers and thorns is cast; 

Nci beat of drum to battle calls, 
Each day in quiet passed. 


Just where I am is ruled by thee; 

The duty of each hour 
Marked out for me, must not dismay, 

I conquer by thy power. 

Just where I am, amidst a round 

Of little, common things, 
I pray that, in thy strength, I may 

Yet soar on angel wings. 

Just where I am, by doing well, 

A battlefield may be, 
And daily steps a ladder prove, 

Which leads to victory. 


As helpless leaf before the gale, 
My hopeless, human heart so frail! 
Oh, what the power that shall avail 

In darkest day, 
Whene'er the storms of grief assail, 

To light the way ? 

The sparrow falleth to the ground, 
The Father's love beyond all bound 
Its fate doth note — in Him is found 

All needed strength; 
His tender care shall thee surround, 

Thy journey's length. 

9 8 


No light ? 'Neath lowering skies, with feeble step, 
I, faltering, tread, while thorns my path beset; 

No faintest glimmer of a coming dawn, 

My heart shall ease, nor soothe its vain regret! 

Ah, no! Thank God, my soul, that all untrue 
Are words like these; that no such plaintive sigh 

My lips escapes; but that my steadfast gaze 
On One is fixed, who ever hears my cry. 

If faith in Him the "narrow w 7 ay" illume, 

Whatever grief or ill my life betide, 
The Angel of His presence will I see; 

In fire, or cloud, a never-failing Guide. 

E'en though, at times, I can but feebly lift 
My earth-dimmed eyes, His glory to behold, 

Yet toward a Promised Land He leadeth me, 
A land where treasures lie — a wealth untold. 


They seem sometimes to be so small, 
Those things we long to do; 

As though the giving-up were vain; 
Yet thus are lives made true. 

They seem — ah, yes! to earthly sight, 

Yet to the Father's eye, 
No sacrifice the soul can make, 

But helps to sanctify. 


The little touch the potter's hand 
The yielding clay doth give, 

Shall shape the lines of beauty, till 
An image fair shall live. 

So now, dear Lord, I yield to thee 
My stubborn, erring will; 

Thine image in my heart with love 
Shall all my spirit fill. 


One gift alone is mine 
To offer or withhold; 

Rich blessings all are thine; 
A wondrous store divine, 
Which, day by day, unfold. 

One gift to thee I bring, 

A simple, childlike faith; 
Glad praises I would sing 
To my dear Lord and King, 
And do whate'er He saith. 

One gift, dear Lord, I pray 
Thou wouldst accept from me; 

I am thy child alway; 

Be thou my guide and stay 
For all eternity. 



Thou first, thine own great impotence must feel, 
Yet know there is a strengthening balm to heal, 
Then, suppliant, kneel. 

The longing that thy very soul-depths stirred, 
Thou needst not clothe in all expressive word, 
Unsaid, 'tis heard. 

Ask not to know the Father's full intent, 
For, though the answer be not as thou meant, 
In love 'tis sent. 

Thy weary head on Jesus' breast should lie; 
O'er storm-tossed waves the blessed "It is I," 
Shall soothe each sigh. 


Softly fall the snowflakes, pure and white they lie, 
Through the glistening tree-tcps lccms the cold 

gray sky; 
Silently the Father, though the storm be drear, 
Sendeth holy comfort, shadowed hearts to cheer. 

Softly fall the snowflakes, filling all the air, 
Forming feathery garlands, each of foliage fair; 
Though our sins be scarlet, by the Saviour's love, 
Robes of dazzling whiteness shall be ours above. 

Softly fall the snowflakes, hiding earth from view, 
Till the landscape sparkles with a beauty new; 
So the spirit granteth gifts of love and joy, 
And our souls are cleansed from the world's alloy. 



Strong in thy strength all right to do 

Life's battle I can win; 
And, in thy strength will put to flight 

Each soul-destroying sin. 

Strong in thy strength thy will to love. 

This restless heart I'll calm, 
And, in thy strength, vain joys forsake 

Which bring no healing balm. 

Strong in thy strength to live or die, 

I'll trust thee, day by day, 
And, in thy strength will be content 

That thou shouldst choose my way. 

Strong in thy strength, oh, let me be, 

Till victory is won! 
And, in thy strength, at length I rise 

To hear thee say, " Well done! "